


Eyes Lock and It's Over

by binarytonystark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abrupt Ending, Bartender Tony, M/M, suave steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 11:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14790069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/binarytonystark/pseuds/binarytonystark
Summary: “Do you want to open a tab?” Tony asks, almost yells because of the music.“Depends, will you take care of us tonight?” The man asks as a grin spreads across his face. The smile is kind, but his eyes are deceiving it. They are dark (and it’s not just the lighting) deep and blown with lust.





	Eyes Lock and It's Over

**Author's Note:**

> Legit the first thing I've posted in four years, be nice!

Music thumps through the steamy air in the club. A mix of hip hop and dance remixes are being played, their base shaking everyone’s rib cages. The strobe lights start up, at first the only things dancing on the floor. It doesn’t take long before it is flooded with eager horny bodies willing for the inevitable bump and grind.

Behind the bar Tony is pulling liquors off the shelf to mix drinks as quickly as they are requested. His biceps tense and flex, rippling under his skin as he reaches up for a highball glass to mix a long island in. He does have the sleeves on his tight black t-shirt pushed up for a reason. The waitresses weren’t the only ones that could con a few extra bucks out of hopeless drunken souls. He hands the drink to the nameless blond with a flirtatious smile plastered on his face.

She smiles back, a little bit more shy as she hides behind her bangs, “keep the change,” she says as she hands him a ten for her drink and walks off, her hips swaying dramatically. Tony doesn’t respond and just stuffs the bill into the tin can with the rest before moving on to the next person at the increasingly busy bar.

“Three Jager bombs,” a man says as he wedges into the place the blond just was.

Tony nods, acknowledging the request without making eye contact. He has learned a long time ago to pay no mind to the guys in the club. He pours the Red Bull into plastic cups and then pours the shots. He is putting the bottle of Jagermeister back on the shelf when he finally does make eye contact with the man. Tony’s breath hitches in his throat when the blue eyes nearly engulf him. He lets go of the bottle before it is completely back on the shelf, causing it to fall.

With smooth reflexes Pepper, the shift manager who is bartending with him, catches the bottle before it crashes onto the floor.

“I’ll bust the next one on your head,” she warns returning the bottle safely to the shelf and then turns back to her patrons.

Tony swallows thickly, knowing that was a real threat. He sets the drinks in front of his breathtaking patron.

“Do you want to open a tab?” He asks, almost yells because of the music.

“Depends, will you take care of us tonight?” The man asks as a grin spreads across his face. The smile is kind, but his eyes are deceiving it. They are dark (and it’s not just the lighting) deep and blown with lust. It makes the hair stand up on the back of Tony’s neck as his stomach twists and plunges. The feeling startles him; it’s not like he wasn’t used to being hit on by men occasionally too.

“S-sure,” he stutters, but covers it up with his classic smile, “anything you need.”

The man pulls his credit card from his wallet, “I will hold you to that,” he leans over the counter to get closer to the bartender so he doesn’t have to yell, “Name is Steve, by the way.”

Tony doesn’t even think to give him his name. What was the point? No one needed to know anything about him; it made the job easier that way. He takes the card and slips it into the till.

When he turns back to help more people he falters for a moment. Only then does he realize that there are two women, a short haired brunette and a redhead, flanking either side of Steve. All three of them take their drinks, dropping the shots in and downing the sweet, carbonated beverage in unison.

He can’t stop himself as he watches Steve. He is dressed in a royal blue button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It clings to his body tightly, the black pinstripe waistcoat he has on top of it hugging even closer. Tony’s gaze is fixed on the patron’s strong jaw line and the way it curves sharply –perfectly into his neck. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the last of his drink.

Tony feels a damp object the side of his face knocking him from la-la land. He pulls the bar rag off of where it fell on his shoulder. He looks over a Pepper, whose face is doing some weird cross between pissed off and trying not to laugh because she caught him staring.

“That’s not what I am paying you for, Tony.” She mocks as she pours another drink.

“You’re paying me? Shit, I thought this was charity work,” he shoots back as he pulls beers out for some frat boys with a running tab.

“Tony,” Steve calls out the newly learned name. The way his name rolls off the other man’s tongue is deep and coated in a sweet molasses. A sharp shiver speeds down Tony’s spine and settles in his gut. He turns around almost too eagerly and Steve laughs.

“Four shots of whatever top shelf tequila you have.”

Tony just nods, it’s about all he can do, as he tries to ignore that hypnotic smile as he sets out the shot glasses. He drags the bottle of tequila over the glasses before setting it down on the counter expecting Steve to share it with his female companions.

Steve leans back to say something in the brunette’s ear. She smiles knowingly as he runs his fingers down the side of her cheek. He pulls her face to his and into a quick, but sensual kiss. It causes something white hot to burn in the pit of Tony’s gut. She pulls away and looks at the red head, they each take one shot before they join hands and disappear onto the dance floor, leaving Steve and his mouse alone.

“Take one,” Steve instructs as he lifts one to his lips tilting his head back as the liquid burns down his throat.

He is not usually one to accept alcohol from patrons, especially so early into the night, but it doesn’t even register in Tony’s brain to try to refuse. The shots are gone before he knows it and he has poured two more. He is deaf and blind to everything else that is going on around him, like a horse with blinders on, all he can see is Steve and his stupid lusty blue eyes that he is falling in deeper and deeper.

Suddenly a sharp snap of pain flares on his exposed arm. He lets out a yelp as he looks over at Pepper who has the rag twisted into a whip.

“The fuck? That hurt,” his eyes narrow on her as he covers the spot she snapped with his hand.

“This isn’t that kind of club,” she reminds him, her face now just pissed off. That was her motto. It was even plastered on the door to the back room.

 

_Employees_ _ONLY_ _._

_(This is not that kind of club.)_

 

Tony rolls his eyes; that wasn’t going to happen. He looks back at Steve who is finishing the last shot. There is a wide smile on his face and he’s almost proud- Tony swears he sees it. Tony’s tongue darts out and licks his lips as Steve leans in. He has the fabric of Tony’s shirt twisted in his hand, pulling him close, bent over the bar his hips crashing into the hard wood. The feeling of his hot breath on the side of his face makes everything in Tony’s chest tighten; his own breathing stopping for a moment as sparks shoot down his spine and twist corkscrews into his stomach.

He didn’t see it earlier, but he feels Steve’s stubble scratch against his cheek. “Don’t go anywhere, OK?” Steve says in a low growl. He bites down on Tony’s earlobe, eliciting a soft yelp, before gently sucking on it apologetically. “I will be back.”


End file.
